


Unthinkable

by LaughingFreak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Character(s), F/M, Probably some OOCness, Racism, Strong Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingFreak/pseuds/LaughingFreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an incident in Atlanta pertaining to a shooting Tasha gets sent to Hogwarts instead of her usual school for her witchcraft. She’s not too excited about it and still feels that way even after getting there. She becomes friends with the Golden Trio and Neville and makes quick enemies with her attitude. A lot of eyes on her, especially the eyes of the Slytherin Prince Draco Malfoy. The two are definitely physically attracted to each other, but after being assigned a potions project by Slughorn they find themselves attracted to more than just each other’s bodies.</p>
<p>When they start dating they have an understanding and bring out the best in the other: she makes him step up to be his own man and he helps her accept her magic heritage. They help each other and risk their lives to do it.</p>
<p>And when the war finally begins or takes a turn for the worst the two are traveling with the Golden Trio to stop it and Voldemort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first fanfiction in…about four or five years. Even longer if we’re counting in the Harry Potter fandom. I mostly quit writing fanfictions because I wanted to focus on bettering my own original writings and get better with that. Yeah, you can be creative with fanfictions, but I’ve seen plotlines in fanfictions that were good enough to be something in an original story/novel and I always wonder why don’t they just use that idea for a novel or something. I’ve still read fanfictions during this time, always will honestly, but writing? Nuh uh. 
> 
> Then why have I finally written one? Because I’m competing on word count with my friend for NaNoWriMo 2014 and I refuse to rush working on my novel. Absolutely refuse. That is the only reason…or, at least the biggest one.  
> And then I also got stuck with the idea of Draco with this girl, my OC, Tasha getting together and the trials they’d deal with. The images just came and she just came, so I thought about it for a while debating on it, then planned it, and outlined the story. I don’t usually just type it straight out, I usually do long-hand one chapter, type it, then do it again for the next chapter and so on and so forth, but I just typed this one straight out, so it’s not my best writing and it’s definitely my first draft.
> 
> Now this story is supposed to be one thing, but might turn into another or be another to the reader. I’m hoping that you see this as how I see it is, but we’ll see. And I don’t think that Tasha acts like a Mary-Sue, but if she does please let me know. Mary-/Gary-Sues are never okay, ever.
> 
> Well, onto some major points:
> 
> 1) This is an AU from sixth year (Half-Blood Prince) to seventh year (Deathly Hallows). I take some liberties. It’s not uncommon with fanfictions, but I just thought I’d let you know from the get go.
> 
> 2) I’m hoping no one’s too OOC, but they might be, so I’m puttin’ that out there.
> 
> 3) There will be coarse language in this, along with racial slurs at some point from characters. 
> 
> 4) The sex is not extremely detailed, but detailed enough to get people going. I don’t write sex scenes often and, to be honest, I’ve never written one with a heterosexual couple, it’s always been male homosexual couples. Do not expect a lot.
> 
> 5) This one is important: my facts aren’t all going to be right. I can practically guarantee that. I’m not as familiar with the Harry Potter universe like I used to be because it’s been a few years since I watched the last movie, but close to seven or eight since I read the books. If I get something wrong either look over it or kindly correct me.
> 
> 6) I am also taking liberties with technology, entertainment, and etc. like there’s mp3 players or computers or not bulky cell phones or certain music artists and actors and movies. I’ll try not to go further than 2005, 2006 at least though regarding those things. No guarantees though.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy the story and like my OCs enough not to gag and want to punch me in the face.

**Prologue**

 

Tasha didn’t want to do this, she really didn’t.

Her brother stood there with an exasperated look on his face, frustrated, as he shoved her luggage to her. She didn’t take it and just crossed her arms and looked up at him defiantly. “I’m not going, Jamal,” she stated plainly.

He groaned and ran his hands over his buzzed cut hair then scrubbed his face roughly. Before he could say anything their mother narrowed her eyes at her and placed her hands on her wide hips, “Stop that attitude or I will check it. You’re going whether you like it or not.”

She crossed her arms and the bag, the one that her brother tried to give her that stood ignored alongside her, slid across roughly to Jamal, hitting his feet and toppling over. Her mother glanced around quickly to see if anyone noticed while Jamal stomped over to her with the bag, dropping it next to her and grabbing her forearm tightly. She winced slightly. “Don’t do that shit here!” he hissed between clenched teeth.

The younger of the two siblings just looked up at him and glared.

“Jamal, let go of your sister and watch your mouth. Tasha, if you don’t get your ass on that plane and behave then I’ll give you something to complain about,” their mother ordered.

The two did just that. Jamal let go and Tasha sighed, giving up. She knew and understood why she had to go, but she wished she didn’t have to. Her family and friends were here. Britain was a whole new country of something she didn’t know much of; all she knew was that she was going to live with an aunt and uncle on her dad’s side, two of the few people from his family that actually spoke to them and knew of her being a witch. They were the ones that put the idea to her mom that there was a good school for her kind in the U.K. and that they’ll let her live with them if she decided to go and pay for expenses.

It was what her mom wanted, a way for her daughter to get out of the ghetto and make something of herself: her being safe. Though she tried to get Jamal to go too he refused to leave their mother or his boys; he was too far into the streets to leave.

She gave her mom a hug and a kiss on the cheek then did the same to her brother before picking up her bag and going to her terminal to get aboard her flight.

_To London, then Hogwarts._


	2. Chapter 1

London was so much more different than she expected. Sure, she expected there to be differences, but not as different as she found it to be.

When she landed and grabbed her luggage and made her way to the lobby of the airport she was overwhelmed with nerves. She took her a deep breath and looked around the terminal. Her aunt and uncle had to be here somewhere. There was a rattling against her luggage and she startled. Tasha sighed, but smiled and crouched down in front of the carrier that held her pet. Looking into the carrier she pulled the earbud from one ear and cooed, “Hey, girl, gettin’ antsy, huh?”

In the carrier was a beautiful light colored ferret. The tips of the ferret’s ears and paws were black and its blue eyes shined brightly. The witch took out a snack from first pocket her carry-on bag and slipped it from through one of the square holes.

She’s had her ferret since her fourth year in magic school. Where she went they allowed more than just owls, cats, and rats. You were allowed pretty much any sort of small creature as long as you had control of it and it was okayed by the parents of the student. And she was going to go for a cat like most of the other girls, she even found the one she was going to pick, but then she found her Tiki. She didn’t get to have a pet besides her owl, Arrow, until she was able to take care of them herself. It was a rule her mom had, which led to getting Tiki when she was able to get work and pay for everything.

What her mom didn’t know was that Jamal helped her too.

With Tiki settled she checked Arrow under the drape over his cage. He fluttered, hooted once, then went back to resting. Arrow was always the less restless one between the two animals.

“Tasha!” a feminine voice yelled. There were hurried steps coming in her direction and she stood up to meet them.

Rushing to her was her aunt, her uncle walking briskly behind the woman. Both adults wore light jackets. Her aunt wore hers open, showing off the nicely fitted white blouse and jeans with a pair of brown heeled boots beneath her jeans. The colors of her clothes going well with her dark skin tone. The woman was still slim like Tasha remembered and hair as stylish as always in its short cut.

Unlike her aunt her uncle was a tall, but pleasantly plump man with laugh lines prominent on his face. He was clean shaven, which was different than what she remembered of his beard from when she was younger, when she used to tug on it; he even had his head shaven now. His gray pea coat was done up and the collar was pulled up. He wore dark jeans with a pair of comfortable brown loafers. His clothes mostly blended with his dark skin tone.

Well, from the get up it’s probably cold out, or nippy if you can handle. Great, she didn’t have a coat.

“Hi, Aunt Belinda, Uncle Terrance,” she greeted. It was a little odd seeing them after seven years.

They weren’t offended by her less than enthusiastic greeting. They just smiled and gave her a hug.

“You’ve grown so much! How old are now?” asked Aunt Belinda as Uncle Terrance took most her luggage. Tasha grabbed what he couldn’t, Tiki’s carrier and Arrow’s cage since the two can be kind of finicky. Her uncle led the way out of the airport and the two ladies following closely behind, side-by-side.

 “Seventeen. Just turned in February,” she answered with a shrug, flipping the loose braids over her shoulder.

 Her aunt picked up one of the braids and gave a little laugh. “The last time I saw you you were rocking the pigtails.”

 She shrugged. “Yeah, well, Uncle Terrance was also rockin’ a ‘fro and beard the last time I saw him.”

There was a deep rumble from in front of them from the mentioned man, then he said, “Yeah, I was. But working as a head chef at my own diner and owner I figured I’d better off looking a bit more professional.” He turned his head slightly towards her, enough to be seen. “Besides, don’t have to worry about my hair going into the food this way.” He winked and she laughed.

The three made it to the entrance of the airport and when the doors opened there was a gust of wind that had Tasha shivering. Jesus Christ, it was cold out there! She was not a girl for this type of weather, she was from Atlanta, and it hardly ever got that cold.

Uncle Terrance made his way out the door, carrying her bags with him, and she made to follow with sigh, but got stopped when her aunt grabbed her lightly on the arm. “He’s bringing the car up. We figured you wouldn’t own a coat since your school was also in the south like Atlanta. We got you a coat in the car for you to wear. It’s only going to get colder,” informed the older woman.

Tasha gapped at her and gazed up heavenward asking for mercy…and for it to not get colder.

Aunt Belinda laughed and said, “You’ll get used to it, honey.”

She gave the older woman a look. “I’m not made for this shit, Aunt Belinda.”

“Language,” she reprimanded.

The witch rolled her eyes.

Before anything else can be said Uncle Terrance drove up to the front of the sidewalk and parked. The two ladies grabbed the cage and carrier, Tiki hissing and running around the carrier, making it harder for Aunt Belinda to carry it without waddling, and make their way to the car.

Uncle Terrance got out with a white downy coat with a black fur rimmed hood that looked like would be a nice snug fit. He switched with Tasha, taking Arrow and giving her her coat so she could put it on. The two put her animal friends in the small car, making it so there was barely room in the backseat for her, but she’ll manage.

She was right; the coat was a nice snug fit. Sighing happily at the warmth it provided, she zipped it up halfway and found that the coat was styled to have cotton fabric hug her waist while the rest above it was made to keep her warm with the down. “Thanks.”

The three made their way into the car and the ride was quiet as Uncle Terrance made his way out of the airport parking lot and to their house. The ride was quiet for a bit and as Tasha looked out her window, watching the scenery and taking it in, she wondered if she what this Hogwarts was like. Would it be like her school, Southern Wolfstrum School? Are the students like the ones where she’s from? Wizarding students were probably the same everywhere, right? She could only guess that the school itself was different, along with the places around Britain, and that there was British lingo that she most likely wouldn’t understand right away.

A sigh escapes her lips and she decides to bite the bullet. “When do I leave for school?” the witch asked sullenly.

Her aunt met her eyes through the rearview mirror and answered, “Today. You’ll just be taking your things there. We’re pretty much just a place that you can stay at if you want to leave school for the holidays. A lady called Minerva McGonagall is supposed to come pick you up after we get home and you leave the stuff that you don’t need there.”

So, no break. That sucks. “How’d you even find out about the school anyways? And pull this?” It’s something that’s been bothering her for the whole plane ride there. The two don’t have any children and have no wizarding children in their family.

This time, Uncle Terrance answered. “I overheard a co-worker talk to their wife about the niece who graduated last year from the school. I asked about it, mentioning you and your…hm, situation, and they said that they can try to get a word in.”

“Apparently, we got really lucky and Dumbledore was kind enough to let you transfer on such short notice,” added Aunt Belinda.

Well, that much was the same. No matter what school you go to it was always weird to transfer a month or two into the year and got lucky when you were able to. Wait…

“You know about me getting shot?” the witch asked, sitting up straight.

Uncle Terrance pursed his lips, but Aunt Belinda spoke up, “Your mother told us. She and I have been keeping in contact a little over the past couple years. So, we suggested you come stay with us for a bit until school was over. She wanted you in a better environment, safer.”

“I was fine where I was! I got shot _once_!” Tasha growled, gritting her teeth. “I’ve handled myself all these years on those streets. I made one mistake, but I’m fuckin’ fine!”

“Language,” the two reprimanded harshly.

She glared at the back of them the rest of the ride to the house. Some soft rock played from the radio.

    

*

 

Their house was on a crowded street in the heart of London, a two story building with white paint and green shutters. The neighborhood was nice and upscale. Completely different than the ghetto of Atlanta she was used to. Hell, she was used to hearing sirens and gunshots almost every night. This place seemed like the most it got in that department was business associates, shoppers, and tourists. Their house wasn’t far from the business district. It felt weird to Tasha.

This was so…different. She knew that her uncle and aunt had a good amount of money, what with one being a chef and the other being the owner of a salon and a hairdresser, but this was more than she expected. It’s not like the house was extravagant, it was rather average, but the neighborhood stood out enough for being a safe and nice area.

The inside was clean and smelt of chimney smoke. When you entered the house there were stairs leading to the second floor against the wall with a dark wood banister. Tasha’s new guardians put the jackets on the coat rack next to the door’s entrance and dropped their keys onto the stand next to the rack.

Uncle Terrance still had her bags in hand.

“Where do you want to go through them,” asked her uncle, motioning to her bags.

She shrugged. “The living room, I guess. There’s probably more space there.”

“Don’t you want to take them to your room?” asked her aunt.

“Why? I’m just going to leave for the school year. I pretty much take all my stuff with the exception anything I can’t battery operate,” she answered, biting her lip from saying more and having an attitude.

God, it was so hard not to say ‘ _not like I want to be here anyway, I’d rather be back at home_ ’. They knew she didn’t want to be here, no need to keep saying it and risk getting a belt on her ass. They may not be her mom, but they were her guardians while she was here and they probably would do what her momma did when she went out of line.

And those belts fuckin’ hurt.

Uncle Terrance gave her a stern look and then made his way to the living room on the right with her bags and Aunt Belinda sighed, following her husband. Her aunt left her Tiki’s carrier, probably not wanting to deal with the hassle of a ferret that wanted make things difficult for the woman. It made Tasha smile. That’s her girl, just like her owner.

Tasha looked at the carrier and jerked her chin at it, doing the same to the cage for Arrow. Both opened on their own. Arrow hooted and flew around Tasha for a moment before planting himself on the base of the stairs banister. Tiki ran around for a while, more than happy to be out of the evil carrier, and Tasha only laughed and picked up the carrier as she made her way into the living room with her relatives.

When she got into the living room the two adults were already sitting on the large, black leather couch with each other. Her luggage sat in front of the matching recliner. She went and sat down in it, unzipped her coat, and opened the duffle she knew had stuff that wouldn’t be able to go to a place that had no plug-ins. The ferret made her way onto the recliner arm and looked up at her. Tasha gave Tiki a kiss on the head, then started to really go through the bag.

Hair dryer, that stays here. Flatiron, stays here. Hot comb, stays here. Hygiene, hair products, the little bit of make-up she has, that goes with her. Hmmm, hey batteries. Those go with her.

She looked into her purse and double checked that everything was in there and that her cell phone was fully charge before she turned that off to conserve battery. Also, she needed to know if she remembered to put two packs of cigarettes in there. When she found that everything was in order—her wallet with her license and debit card, the wad of five hundred dollars cash Jamal gave her before she left for the airport in Atlanta (no one needed to know about it, it was bad enough that her mom knew how he got the cash she didn’t need to know that he was getting a lot from the gang work he was doing), two packs of Camels and lighter, cell phone, mp3 player, etc.—she secured her bag again.

“Do you need any help? We probably only got a few minutes left before your professor comes to get you,” asked Aunt Belinda.

Tasha shook her head. “Nah, I got this.” And she did. She went through the next bag after closing up the first one.

It was quiet for a moment and after she took out a few more things and closed up the second bag, going to the third, her aunt spoke up.

“Oh! Do you have winter boots? It’s supposed to snow soon,” she asked her niece, standing up.

The witch crinkled her nose at the thought of snow. She’s only had to deal with snow once or twice and both times were because they were visiting some relatives in Ohio. That was years ago, when before her parents divorced and her dad went to prison. “No. Aunt Belinda, I lived in Georgia, why would I have snow boots?”

“Cut the attitude, little girl,” intervened her uncle firmly.

Aunt Belinda ignored the small bit of attitude and asked, “What size shoes do you wear? Seven? Eight?”

“Seven, but doesn’t this place go by a different measuring system?” I answered, questioning where this was going.

The woman nodded. “Yeah, they go by a different metric system, but I’m good at converting them to and from the sizes here to and from the size system in the U.S. I wear the same size. I’ll get you my old boots to wear.”

Then she left to do just that, leaving Uncle Terrance and Tasha alone. The witch sighed and dug into the last, third bag of the bunch, to see if it had anything that needed a plug-in that had to stay here.

It didn’t take long to go through the bag, she kept her battery operated boombox and CDs in the bag, but the other electronics that didn’t work like the boombox was taken out, which, honestly, was only one thing. Even when she was done with her third bag her aunt still hadn’t made it back down into the room. She didn’t other with her backpack, it had pretty much only school supplies and that was it. Her and her uncle sat there quietly, watching the fire and Tasha petting Tiki who purred at the attention.

“How’s your side?” her uncle suddenly asked.

She tensed, then slowly relaxed. “Fine,” she answered, “Can barely feel it.”

He grunted, but didn’t ask more about it, noticing that she didn’t want to talk about it. He asked something else instead. “How do you think this McGonagall is going to come here?”

“Probably Apparation,” she answered simply.

Uncle Terrance crinkled his dark brows thoughtfully. “That…disappearing act thing?”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet again between them. They heard steps coming down the stairs, the heels clicking against the wooden flooring. Her aunt came into the room carrying a pair of plain black snow boots. “Found these. Wore them for two winters then bought new ones and they been in the closet since, so they’re relatively new.”

Tasha took them from her and looked hem over, then shrugged and put them in the bag that had the least stuff. She thanked her aunt for the boots.

Before Tasha got the chance to sit down there was a crack before an elderly woman dressed in a witch’s hat and dress robes stood in front of the fireplace. Aunt Belinda gasped in shock and Uncle Terrance jumped to his feet with a yell and put himself in front his wife. Both were startled and staring in shock at the elderly woman that stood in front of them.

Huh, she forgot that the two weren’t used to the whole magic thing. They may accept it, but they weren’t used to seeing it.

The female newcomer noticed the two’s expressions and said, “My apologies, I should’ve warned before I entered your home.”

Her aunt was the first to gain her herself back. “No, no, we probably would’ve been shocked even if we were. We’re not used to seeing magic being done.”

“Ah, I see.” The woman turned to Tasha. “You must be Tasha?”

The young witch nodded, zipping her coat back halfway up. “Yes, ma’am.”

The woman smiled and nodded. “Well, my name is Minerva McGonagall; I’m a professor at Hogwarts and you’ll call me Professor McGonagall. We’ll Apparate to Diagon Alley to get you measured for your uniform. We’ll have your books ordered and sent to the school with your clothes. Do you have any currency that you need to exchange for wizarding money?”

“Yeah, my brother gave me some cash to get through the school year,” she answered. She was not looking forward to the uniform shit. Well, there was something she was missing from her old school already, not having a uniform

“Then we’ll stop at Gringotts Bank to exchange your currency,” the woman informed the young witch. “We’ll have your luggage picked up when we get you sorted into your house.”

Sorted? “Okay,” she agreed slowly.

McGonagall turned toward Tasha’s guardians. “I’ll be sending a creature called a house elf to pick up her bags, please don’t be alarmed when they pop up. They won’t harm you,” informed McGonagall to her aunt and uncle.

The two just nodded.

Tasha put Tiki back in her carrier, which the ferret was not happy about and showed it by whining and hissing and trying to scramble out of her grip. It didn’t work, Tiki still got put in the carrier without a problem, but it was only because her owner was used to dealing with this situation from the ferret. When she finished that task, to make it easier for the elf that will have to pick it up, she turned to the two muggles in the room.

“I’m leaving my owl, Arrow, here with you. Whenever you get mail from mom, Jamal, or my friends, just send it to Hogwarts with Arrow. It’d be easier that way,” Tasha told them. Her friends and family couldn’t exactly send mail through the mail box, so she came up with this simple method. She’ll just use one of the owls in the owlery in Hogwarts for anything she needs to send out.

The two looked a little worried. They probably had no idea on how to take care of an owl. But they agreed with a nod and small smiles.

The young witch rolled her eyes discreetly and added, “I left instructions on how to care for him attached to the bottom of the cage.”

The relieved look on their faces almost made me laugh at them. Trust her on this, it isn’t going to make it much easier when Arrow realizes that his master is not going to be around and these strangers are going to take care of him. She smirked inwardly, that’ll be funny.

McGonagall asked if Tasha was ready and she gave the affirmative. The professor put a hand on her shoulder and they Apparated into Diagon Alley.

Once in Diagon Alley Tasha regained her lost balance. Shaking her head, her braids swirling along with the motion, she looked around the area. It was oddly dark and lacked life. She furrowed her brows, wondering what happened here. Usually wizarding communities were just as bustling as any muggle city, but nothing was really happening here.

There seemed to be some stores that were barely keeping in business and some of the stands of vendors all seemed to be untrustworthy. There were some people, but not many made their rounds around the area. The practically desolated Diagon Alley made her feel uneasy, almost like when she was going out and about near nightfall on the streets of her neighborhood at home. Something just felt off. Something was obviously going on here. Whatever it was she had a feeling she got a in the middle of a calm before the storm.

She took a breath and adjusting her black leather purse on her shoulder.

The two witches walked down the strip of stores, the oldest leading the way and the youngest following closely behind watching her surroundings carefully. It was so quiet that you could hear the heels of both the witches’ shoes click-clack against the pathway and the gust of wind. McGonagall kept a close on eye on her.

The older witch had to hide the sad smile on her lips; the girl seemed to pick up on the need to be alert quite quickly and was more than cautious. The girl had just transferred and from the look on her face she had no idea what she had gotten into. McGonagall sighed despairingly at the idea of the girl going from one dangerous situation to another, the only difference being that the one she was in before was muggle related and now it switched to a wizarding danger.

“We’ll go to Gringotts Bank first, then we’ll go to get you fitted for your uniform and head to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall, making her to the bank a few feet in front of them.

Tasha followed and when they made it inside she walked ahead and went to the counter. A goblin manned the counter and it eyed her hard before speaking, “What can I do for you today?”

She looked him in the eyes and said, “I need to exchange my cash for wizarding currency.”

The goblin huffed and asked, “Would you like to open a vault?”

“No, just exchange currency right now,” she answered.

He held out his hand and said, “The money.”

The young witch opened her purse and pulled a wad of bills held together by a rubber band out and handed it to the goblin. McGonagall stood back enough to not make it so she was hovering, but close enough to get to her if something were to happen. “Five hundred dollars U.S. cash. All in fifty dollar bills.”

The goblin counted the bills and eyed her curiously. “Long way from home, witch,” he stated.

She snorted and leaned her arms onto the counter, waiting as he got done with the counting. “Yes, I am, goblin, and I wish I was back there right now. No place like home, true?” she countered with a shrug.

“I bet. I will be right back.” He finished counting the cash and went to go exchange it.

Tasha drummed her fingers as the goblin made his way to exchange the money she had. While she waited she looked around the bank’s lobby and had to admit that it was nice in there. It was spacious and well lit and most likely bigger once you made your way to the vaults. She’s never had to use the vaults, even at home; she kept all her money at a muggle bank and would just take a certain amount out to pay for her school supplies and keep a little for spending money during the year to exchange it for wizarding money. Mostly she would just keep the money she made from work over the summer and exchange the money Jamal gave her.

Jamal always looked out for her and their mom. Being the only man in the house he felt it was his job to provide for the two of them. They both knew that their mom worked herself hard at two jobs that only paid minimum wage and still had trouble making ends meet. Seeing that and know what he would have to do, he joined one of the big gangs and got into the drug business when he was fifteen. Now being twenty-one he’s been in the gang life for six years and he’s taken to providing as much as their mom will let him and helping her out, protecting them.

Unlike Jamal she went to the route of just getting full-time or part-time work in the summer at whatever store will hire her and get paid minimum wage like her momma. She also tried to help their mom out, but the woman was stubborn as a mule.

She was brought out of her thoughts when there was movement from the goblin making his way back at the counter, stepping on his latter.

“Your money has been exchanged.” He sat a large pouch onto the counter and gave a nod. “Thank you for your patronage.”

Tasha put the pouch in her purse and zipped the bag shut. “Yeah. Have a good day, goblin.”

“Watch your back, witch.”

McGonagall led the young witch out and they made their way down a ways to a clothing shop called Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occassions. When they entered there were a lot of robes of all different colors. Fabric of all type hung about, plenty to choose from if you wanted to buy many.

A squat woman, friendly looking came up to them and greeted them. “Hello, Minerva! What brings you here today? Do you need new dress robes?” the woman asked delighted.

The professor smiled. “No, not today. This is a new Hogwarts student. She’s in need of school robes if you could take her measurements.”

“Of course, of course! Where have you come from, my dear?” asked Madam Malkin.

“Southern Wolfstrum School in the States,” she answered after a moment of debate.

McGonagall stayed back and watched as Tasha got measured for her school clothes. It was weird; she never had to get fitted for school robes before. Usually she just wore what she brought from home when going through classes. Though, really, it was like getting measured for her bra size again.

“You have quite the figure for a young lady!” chuckled the owner, going to measure her waist and hips.

She shrugged.

When the squat little witch owner was done and took down the measurements Tasha gave her the money needed and the older witch that she was traveling with told her that she’ll have a house elf pick them up when she was done with it.

McGonagall turned to Tasha after they left the shop and said, “Now, to Hogwarts.”

Jesus, finally.

 

*

 

As soon as Tasha made it into Dumbledore’s office it was a few minutes before dinner and she was tired and ready to call it a day. The office was filled with portraits and looked lived in. There were books on shelves and a desk that was filled but not cluttered. A beautiful phoenix sat on a perch above a container of ashes.

At the desk sat Albus Dumbledore, one of the oldest wizards she’s seen in a long time. His eyes twinkled with life behind his glasses, but there was something tired about them. The robes he wore were colorful in their splendor and he kept one hand hidden behind him. She only assumes that he was hiding his hand because the other wasn’t being hidden and was out in the open.

The man smiled behind his long white beard and said, “Ah, you made it. Tasha, I’m Albus Dumbledore, you’re new headmaster. Please, have a seat. You must be tired.” He gestured to the comfortable looking chair in front of his desk.

Tasha plopped down in it tiredly and slouched back. “Thank god. Is this resting time going to last or am I gonna have to be on the move again? ‘Cause I’ll be more than happy to sleep in this chair at this point.”

Dumbledore laughed and said, “We’ll make this fast so you can go eat and go rest.” He got up to grab an old dark colored looking witch’s hat. “First, let’s figure out the House you’ll be in.”

“What’s this whole House thing?” she asked.

“The students of Hogwarts are separated by Houses depending on characteristics pertaining to that House. Ravenclaw for the academics and quick witted, Hufflepuff for the just, loyal, and patient, Gryffindor for those with bravery, nerve, daring, and chivalry, and Slytherin for those that are cunning and ambitious towards their goals,” the headmaster explained.

Well, she definitely wasn’t Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, not with her attitude. Maybe the other two? What she did know was that she was ready for the day to be over.

“Is there one that’s better than the other?”

“No, but that also depends on who you ask. Certain people are particular about their Houses being better than the others, but everybody has a little bit of each House in them, there are just some qualities that stand out more than the others.”

He lifted the hat, which was apparently called the Sorting Hat, and placed it on her head. It was a little on the big side, but not by much. She waited for something to happen and just as she was thinking this was a crock of shit it spoke and startled her.

“A bit late in the year, aren’t we?” stated the hat.

She glared ahead and scooted into a more upright position instead of the slouch she was sporting. “So, what House am I in?” she asked grouchily.

The hat hummed a little tune, in thought. “You could be in either Gryffindor or Slytherin, you have strong characteristics of both…”

The witch rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. She wished that it would just make a decision; she didn’t really care about which one she was in, seriously.

So, she leaned back in the chair, crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and waited for the hat to make a choice. If it wasn’t going to make one quickly, she might as well get comfortable.

“Well, well, you definitely got bravery, but you also know when to be quick on your feet with danger…you’ve been cunning in the past, too, I see, when it came down to it…” This caused Tasha to tense uncomfortably. “Ambitious, yes…very much daring…let’s see what you can do in…Gryffindor!” declared the hat.

Once the declaration was made Dumbledore took the hat off her head and placed it back in its spot. He took his seat again at his desk and pulled out some papers, placing them on the desk before them. She groaned as she leaned forward to look at them. It was her transcripts and O.W.L. results.

He looked at her, smiling. “I’ve looked over your transcripts and O.W.L.s and I was glad to know that you weren’t a bad student.”

“I’m an okay student, I just do better at some subjects,” she corrected lightly, but truthfully.

He hummed. “Well, you meet all the requirements by the professors here for the classes you tested in at home. We’ll keep you in the core classes—Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Herbology—but is there any class that you’d like to continue, discontinue, or add?”

Tasha thought about it. All her O.W.L.s for the classes she tested in were either ‘Acceptable’ or higher and some of them were because she had someone help her with studies. She had her favorite subjects and then the ones she excelled at to receive the few ‘Outstandings’ she was able to get. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t be able to get out of Ancient Runes, no matter how much she begged, there was one class that she wanted to continue without a doubt.

“I want to add Care for Magical Creatures to my schedule,” she finally answered.

That made Dumbledore’s smile broaden. “That’s good to hear, I’m sure Hagrid will be happy that his class has gotten bigger.”

She stared at him then asked, “Should I be worried?”

“Well, for fair warning, Hagrid has a habit of bringing in dangerous creatures for class to teach,” warned the old wizard with a fond smile.

Oh. “That’s it? My old instructor for the class loved dragons. He would find dragon eggs; nurture the dragons until they got big enough then sent them to a reservation. He used to work with them, but then he got older and decided that he had to retire from his reservation work. Didn’t stop him from bringing in dangerous creatures and nurturing baby dragons and their eggs.” She laughed. “Actually, I took care of a couple dragon eggs and helped him nurture them until they were sent to the reservation. I even got to name them: Chippy and Louis.”

She bit her lip and looked away. That was the most she spoke since she left the States. She took a breath and looked back at the headmaster. The man only looked at her with mirth and she knew why she opened up. The man was like talking to a grandfather and the kindness and patience was also part of it.

Dumbledore actually gave a bellied laugh and gave a big smile. “You’re old professor sounds like he should be friends with our Hagrid. I think you and Hagrid will get along just fine.”

Maybe being here won’t be so bad if the headmaster is this kind. Her old headmistress back home was…boy, she was a beast, swear to god. She knew everything and she was only a hundred and forty-six. And the other thing? She was practically as spry as a woman in her early forties. The woman was strict, but she was fair and always just.

She’d be a Hufflepuff…except for the patient part, but everything else, she’d definitely be a Hufflepuff.

The headmaster stood up and said, “Let’s go down to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry. You’ll get your schedule in the morning from either Professor McGonagall or myself. For now, let’s get you fed and rested.”

“I am so game for that right now,” she responded.

The two left the Headmaster’s Office and made their way to the Great Hall. The way to the Great Hall was long. Down many corridors and staircases and she stuck close to the old man. If she didn’t she knew she would get lost. Adjusting her purse, she picked up her pace to walk beside the headmaster instead of a foot behind him.

As the two walked Dumbledore hummed a bit and then told her about the school and where everything was at and whatever else he was talking about. She barely paid attention, honestly, not that she didn’t try.

Tasha did perk up when they entered the Great Hall and she smelt food. Her stomach growled angrily at her and Dumbledore smiled and led her to what she assumed to be the table for Gryffindors. She ignored the looks that she got when she entered and just followed the old wizard, rolling her eyes at the looks she was getting.

Get ready to be the center of attention for a while.

After Dumbledore showed her to the Gryffindor table, where the looks just seemed intensified with interest and curiosity, he left her to the sharks. Taking a deep breath she looked around the table and went for a random seat.

She went up to a tall, dark-haired nervous looking boy and asked, “Mind if I sit next to you?”

He stared at her for a minute and before fumbling with his words. “Uh, yeah! Sure. Go ahead…”

“Thanks.” She took off her coat, revealing the blue, tight shirt that hugged her torso with short sleeves and a low scoop neck. She placed her coat on the seat she now had and sat on top of it. Once seated, she placed her purse on her lap and began plating the plate that appeared before her with food.

Finished plating her food, she was about to dig in when the boy next to her decided to speak up. “My name’s Neville Longbottom.”

She looked at him and found his hand outstretched for a shake. She slipped her hand in his and shook it firmly. “Tasha Winters. Nice to meet you.”

He smiled and seemed relieved that she responded at all. He must not get a lot of credit for much. Or has the self-esteem of a rock. She decided to smile back.

Which she soon regretted when people began to ask her questions and want to talk to her.

She ignored them all and just ate her food. Maybe she’ll deal with them after she gets something in her stomach. Neville, at least, didn’t try to converse with her as she ate, probably noticing how fuckin’ _hungry_ she was.

However, when she was nearly done with her plate she looked up and saw some redhead guy staring at her. He was trying to be discreet, but was failing miserably. She knew exactly where he was staring; she had a decent amount of cleavage showing while she leaned over to eat. With a sigh, she looked directly at the redhead and he didn’t notice until she spoke up, making him jump and look her in the face.

“Red, you must be a breast man with how you’re staring at my chest,” pointed out Tasha. She leaned back and took a drink of the pumpkin juice that she poured.

He sputtered indignantly, blushing, and he the two beside him stare at him. The bushy haired brunette yelling ‘Ron’ and the bespectacled and dark messy haired guy looked at his friend incredulously.

Tasha just watched as the redhead got heavily reprimanded by his female friend and the other guy watched with a smile and sighed. The guy with glasses turned to her, keeping his eyes pointedly at eye-level, and said, “Sorry.”

She gave a small, tired smile and shrugged. “I don’t really care as long as he doesn’t touch.” She covered her mouth as she yawned. “So, who are you three? Might as well get introductions out of the way.”

“The redhead is my best mate, Ron Weasley, and the girl yelling at him is my other best friend, Hermione Granger,” he said pointing to each of them, gaining their attention and causing them to smile and shake her hand. Then the guy took a breath and introduced himself. “And I’m Harry Potter.”

Harry held his breath, waiting for the inevitable praise and awe and hero crap that came along with being him, but none of it came. What came was an extended hand for the shake and a ‘nice to meet you’, and then she went back to eating. It surprised the three friends, but it was a nice relief.

“You don’t sound like you’re from around here. Where are you from?” asked Hermione when it didn’t seem like the dark skinned witch was going to say anything.

“The States. Atlanta, Georgia,” Tasha answered after her last bite of food. She set aside her plate and took a drink from her goblet.

Eyes around the table glued onto her. There would be new gossip going around the school, that’s for sure.

Another yawn escapes her. “But I really rather go to bed and talk in the morning if you guys want to talk. All I’ve done is travel all day and I’m done with the day.”

“Oh! Of course! We’ll take you to the dormitory. You…do need help getting there, right?” asked Hermione.

Tasha nodded and stood up, grabbing her coat and purse. “Lead the way.”

The three grabbed their bags and took her up to Gryffindor Tower. The three chattered away and she just followed sluggishly behind, just paying attention on how to get to and from the Great Hall. At least she’ll know that. When they reached a portrait of the Fat Lady Tasha filed away the password and went in after them.

The boys went to sit in the common room, but Hermione led her to the girl’s dormitory. The girls looked around the room and found her luggage at the foot of an empty bed. The relief she felt at the thought of going to sleep on a bed at last had her going over her bags quickly and searching for her sleep wear.

Not even noticing that Hermione spoke and left she changed, tossing her clothes and shoes on the floor on the side of her bed. She plopped on the bed, snuggled up under the blankets, and was out for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 2

Tasha groggily woke up the next morning to the sound of chattering females as feet padded across the room to ready for the day. She tossed her dark braids out of her face as she sat up onto her arms. Looking around, she noted that the curtains on her four-poster bed were closed and assumed that someone must have closed them because she sure as hell didn’t. Her butt came in the room, changed and went straight to sleep, nothing else. She heaved herself up into a sitting position and drew open the drapes roughly, then slipped onto the edge of the bed and planting her feet on the floor.

All the girls were getting around, most already fully dressed while others were nearly there. A few of the girls saw her and gave her looks of surprise, but gave her a quick ‘good morning’ before walking away and whispering to each other. She rolled her eyes at that and took in the chaos that was females getting around. The American’s light brown eyes landed on bushy hair.

“Hermione?” Tasha called out, causing said girl to startle and drop her book onto her lap.

“Yes?” the girl asked once she found who had spoken to her and she smiled when she found that it was the new student.

 A yawn escaped her before she could answer. “What time does breakfast start?” she asked, rubbing her face to wake up.

 “Well, its six forty-five now, so breakfast starts in fifteen minutes. We get an hour to eat each meal.” She paused. “Lunch is at noon until one and dinner is at six until seven.”

Tasha nodded and got up to get around, quickly. The uniform that she got fitted for was lying on top of her luggage and she changed into that. There was no way in hell that she was going to miss breakfast, none.

As she put on the tie to her uniform, the last piece that she needed before her shoes she claws scrapping at something plastic. Making a face, she looked around the room but noticed that it was coming from next to her luggage. Realization hit her and she knelt to open up the carrier, leaving her tie undone.

Tiki ran out and mewled, climbed on top of her bed, ran around on top of it, and mewled again. There were some awww’s from the other sixth year girls who were still there that the owner vaguely heard from a few as she placed her hands on her hips and smiled at the animal. Tiki just stared at her patiently, as if waiting for something, which the animal was.

With a sigh, she opened one of her bags and dug out the food that the ferret was obviously waiting for. Poor thing must be starving after not having dinner last night. She knelt down, pouring some of the food into a small bowl she dug up from her bag, and placed it on her bed for Tiki to eat. As her ferret ate she petted her and murmured an apology.

The girl stood onto her feet and opened another bag that had her shoes—her wedges, boots, now snow boots, a few heels, a pair of sneakers, a pair of nice sandals, flip-flops, and a pair of blue slippers—and decided to go with something safe, considering she didn’t know what her classes were yet. So, she grabbed the pair of black mid-calf high boots with the two-inch heels; safe, but still stylish, something that her uniform did not have to her tastes.

Tasha checked her watch and found that she got dressed faster than she thought; she got done in ten minutes with five to spare. She turned to see if Hermione was in the room, rather sit with the girl and her friends than the others at the moment. Everyone seemed to get nosy. She found the bushy haired girl standing at the door, turned to her as if wanting to say something but not being able to decide whether or not to do so.

The darker witch decided to set her at ease, or attempt to at least. “Can I go with you to breakfast? I’m not exactly up for all the bullshit with fakes.”

The girl brightened up. “Of course! I’m a prefect, so I was going to help you get around the school and with how things work. The school gets a tad confusing on finding your way around,” she admitted, a tad sheepishly.

“Most magic schools seem to have that issue to me, they tend to be bigger and…showy,” Tasha responded with a shrug, grabbing her purse, book bag, and coat.

There was a whine from her bed and she turned to find that Tiki was in possession of her wand.

“Oh yeah, almost forgot the damn thing…” mumbled Tasha.

Hermione gave her a weird look. Who would forget about their wand? It confused the girl immensely, but she didn’t say anything. No wizard or witch would ever forget their wand like that so easily, none.

Once Tasha retrieved her, placing it in one of her boots, wand and gave her pet one last rub on the back she left with the prefect for breakfast. The two walked down to the Gryffindor Common Room and found Harry and Ron down there waiting, Ron almost rather impatiently.

“What took you so long, Hermione?” Ron asked her almost as soon as he saw her. When he noticed the new girl next to her he flushed a little, still embarrassed from last night.

The prefect girl huffed and said, “I’m going to help Tasha get around the castle, doing my job as a prefect, Ron.”

Harry intervened before it could get somewhere…like down a cliff. “How about we get breakfast? It just started.”

That got the two bickering friends to cool down and they nodded in agreement. They made their way to the Great Hall for their meal, them each explaining about the school and where everything was. It was amazing how big this school was to her; seven floors with many doors, some of which apparently had personalities of their own. It was almost like back at her school, but she assumed all magic schools were like this to one extent or another and, honestly, it made Tasha wish she could go to a muggle school more like her best friends.

They entered the Great Hall where it was loud with chatter and life as people ate. The teachers, she noticed, were sitting at a long table, the head table she assumed, at the back of the room eating as they watched over students. No one looked at her as much this morning like they did last night and that was a relief to her. She followed the three to a spot at the table and sat across from them, gathering food for the plate in front of her. Beside her was a redheaded girl and Neville on the other side, on her left, once again. Finding herself next to Neville made her wonder if there was assigned seating or something. But when the two began talking to the three that she walked with she figured it was because they were friends.

Tasha turned to the redhead next to her. “You must be related to Red?” she asked.

“Yeah, little sister. I’m Ginny,” she answered, holding out her hand.

The American took it and shook firmly, “Tasha.”

“So, Tasha,” spoke Ron, mouth slightly full of food, “Why’d you come to Hogwarts?”

She resisted the urge to not crinkle her nose at his manners. Luckily, Hermione got on him about that. “Trust me, I didn’t want to be here. I was forced to come,” Tasha answered honestly, nipping at a piece of toast.

No one seemed to be expecting that answer, but Ginny spoke up first, “Is it because you liked your old school?”

The girl snorted. “Hell no. I liked things about it, sure, but overall? No.”

“Why?” asked Hermione curiously.

Tasha only shrugged, something she did a lot, along with her eye rolling routine. She knew why, but it was no one else’s business.

The mail came flying in by owl, packages and mail and newspapers getting dropped before their respective owners, but none for her. It distracted the four questioning her and gave her time to eat peacefully. Though, she did talk to Neville a little while she did so. She felt the most comfortable with him since he didn’t ask the most questions, letting her be and keeping things casual and she appreciated that.

As Tasha spoke with Neville about little things—the school, the country of Britain she needed to get used to, etc.—McGonagall made her way from the teacher’s table carrying a parchment to her.

“Tasha, this is your schedule for the year. If you have any questions or need help feel free to come to me,” the head of Gryffindor informed her. The older witch handed her her schedule and made her way out of the hall.

“What’s your schedule like?” asked Neville.

“Don’t know, let’s find out…” she looked over the schedule. It wasn’t so bad, but she knew that there were a few classes she was going to have to have help with on catching up on. She gave it to Neville to look at.

“Oh wow, you’re taking Care of Magical Creatures?” he asked, somewhat surprised that she would since most of the Gryffindors decided to drop that class, tired of getting injured.

She drank her juice. “One of my favorite classes, actually. Right up there with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Transfiguration isn’t bad either,” she answered nonchalantly.

That got Hermione’s attention. Academics were her thing Tasha guessed. “What’d you get O.W.L.s in?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“Hmm, let me think…” She went through her memory and named them, using a slender finger for each one she got. “E for Charms, Astronomy, Potions, an A for Herbology and Ancient Runes, and O’s in Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. The other two I tried for were Divination and History of Magic.”

“Divination is trash, why would you bother with it?” asked Hermione with disdain.

Tasha laughed. “Well, I know how you feel about it! Though, I only did it because I was forced to. The class is crap.”

“Hermione walked out of her class. She never looked back,” pointed out Ginny. Ron snickered a little, but when the bushy haired girl glared at him he pretended to cough.

“Nice,” Tasha replied, nodding her head with approval. “I would’ve left the class too if I knew my momma wouldn’t have my ass black and blue.”

“You got nine O.W.L.s though! You must take your studies seriously at least?” the prefect asked with a smile, a bit excitedly.

The dark skinned witch leaned forward, putting her crossed arms on the table and looked down at the schedule that was put down in front of her. She shook her head. “Not really. The O.W.L.s I got O’s in are my best classes and come more naturally to me, the classes below those? I have to work my ass off or get help in. The only reason I try hard is because my momma wants me to and I don’t want my family’s money going to waste.”

Hermione deflated a little at that. Well, that was upsetting. She was hoping she’d have someone else just as willing to learn and work hard like her. Yet again, there are not a lot of people like her out there. She straightened, though, and said, “Well, if you need any help with your work let me know and I’ll help you with it.”

“Okay.” Then Tasha went back to continuing her breakfast.

With the lull in conversation and everyone back at their food Hermione went for her newspaper, unrolled it and gasped. The two boys next to her looked over her shoulder and both of them went from relaxed to grim and tensed, especially Harry. Hermione bit her lip and clenched the paper tightly as hushed whispers erupted around the table over the _Daily Prophet_.

To say that Tasha was confused would be an understatement. As she chewed on her bacon she listened quietly to the people around her, trying to gleam what was so important that much of the table she sat at. There were many statements that had her questioning what the hell she was brought into.

“There was another death.”

“That makes three this week.”

“The poor guy was only twenty, and he had so much going for him.”

“You-Know-Who seems to be on a roll.”

“Death Eaters are filthy, all of them.”

“Will our families be next?”

“Maybe coming to school this year wasn’t a good idea.”

“I wonder if my family is safe!”

She made a face as she took all this in, a young girl, a first year she assumed, bursting into tears and crying into her hands. The girl’s friends were comforting her with sweet words. Yeah, what the hell has she gotten into?

Tasha finished chewing on her bacon and turned her attention to the people she sat around. “Okay, I’m going to ask: who’s You-Know-Who? What are Death Eaters?”

That got the attention of all five people she was talking to and they all looked at her like she was an idiot. Hell, maybe she was because this was apparently a big thing. Even some of the people that were in hearing distance had their attention on her. She took a deep breath and drummed her fingers, waiting for an answer and trying to keep herself from glaring at all the eavesdroppers.

Harry decided to take up the mantle of explaining. “You-Know-Who is a dark wizard named Voldemort. He’s known as the Dark Lord in his inner circle, the Death Eaters. Death Eaters are servants of Voldemort’s.”

“And they want Harry dead,” added Ron. Hermione elbowed him. “What? Everybody knows!”

“She didn’t!” she hissed.

“It’s alright, Hermione, she was bound to find out eventually,” defended Harry calmly, sighing.

“So, why does he want you dead?” asked Tasha.

“It’s a long story…” said Harry.

“Then don’t tell me about it. It’s not my business.” He smiled appreciatively. “But why does everybody not refer to the man by name? And what’s his problem?”

Harry answered, “No one calls him Voldemort because they’re afraid to, nothing more really.”

Tasha snorted. “Stupid.”

Harry nodded, but Hermione took up the next question, “He hates muggles and muggle-borns and wants to get rid of them. He has a pure-blood only agenda.”

With a slight hum, the American took in the information. “Well, he wouldn’t like me.” She shrugged. “So, why doesn’t someone just shoot him or slit his throat? It would be easy enough if you were one of his higher ups, messy but definitely possible.”

Now, they just stared at her. Everyone that heard was not even hiding the fact that they heard her as they stared, shocked and not knowing what to say to that. One, what was wrong with her? Two, what? Three, who says that? This was definitely a girl that made little sense to them and her being muggle-born made a lot of sense to them. No pureblood would think something like that; even a half-blood wouldn’t really think it. Was because she was muggle-born? Or were Americans all like this?

Either that or the girl didn’t know better and was stupid. It was only other conclusion they could think of other than her being muggle-born and American.

Tasha gritted her teeth and glared at the looks of the people around her that heard. “You know what? Forget I said anything. Can someone just show me to Ancient Runes?”

“I’ll do it!” exclaimed Neville, getting out of his stupor.

She nodded and got up, putting on her coat and placing her purse over her shoulder after hefting her backpack onto her back. “Thanks, Neville,” she said.

Neville led the way and Tasha followed. They made their way from the Great Hall and out into the hall, away from prying eyes. The awkward boy didn’t say anything as he led her to the class, figuring that she didn’t want to talk at the moment.

And he was right, she didn’t want to talk. She was annoyed by what happened moments ago. It may seem stupid to many why she was annoyed and frustrated, but it was reasonable to her. Deep down she knew she was different and, honestly, she didn’t like it. She told no one though, and just kept those feelings inside.

But anyone that paid attention or knew her well enough would be able to tell what’s going on to some extent. Not get too much, but enough to get a hunch and good idea.

The two made it to the classroom and waited for the class to start.

 

*

 

Ancient Runes was like she remembered, boring and long, though nothing like how History of Magic that made her want to avoid going to class as much as possible. If she could skip this class she would; with it being early in the morning, on a Monday, and being a boring class she knew that she would probably try to go to it as little as possible. Tasha decided, as she watched Hermione answer another question from the professor, that she’s going to skip this class as much as possible without failing it.

Tasha looked up and was relieved when the professor dismissed the class at long last. “Finally…” she mumbled as she stood from her seat with her things.

Tasha stayed close with Neville and he led her to the potions classroom in the dungeons. As the two walked the Golden Trio came to join them. Neville greeted them and she just listened as they walked. Other students roamed the corridors as they made their way around.

The other witch of the group walked closer to the darker one. “I hope I didn’t upset you,” Hermione murmured worriedly. “I don’t want to make you feel unwelcomed.”

The American sighed and brushed her braids from her face. “It wasn’t you. I just got pissed off because people just stare at me every time I seem to speak around here.” She knew she was different than everyone else.

“It’s no offense to you or anything, we just never heard someone say something like that so easily is all,” said Ron from the other side of Harry.

“Just ignore them,” added Harry. “That’s what I do. I try to at least.”

“Exactly! Harry’s the best person to ask about that, he’s always getting talked about,” agreed Ron vigorously.

“Well, there’s also Malfoy who gets a lot of attention,” pointed out Neville.

Tasha quirked a brow at the angry and frustrated looks on the trio. “Who?”

Their conversation ended once they made it into the dungeon classroom and they had to split to their seats. The four she walked with already had seats and she stood there looking for one. Not knowing which ones were taken and which weren’t, Tasha shrugged and just picked the seat next to Neville. Might as well stick with what she knows, right?

Students were still making their way into the room, all either in Slytherin or Gryffindor colors. There was a lot of chatter, of course, but there seemed to also be quite a bit of glaring and insult spatting from one House to another. Some that weren’t participating in them were not even really acknowledging them or just sighed and rolled their eyes. Tasha stored that bit of her observation away: Slytherins and Gryffindors don’t like each other and are always fighting, got it.

In the front of the classroom was a large man that seemed all the more jolly with the huge smile on his face. The professor greeted the students and looked about the room until his eyes landed on Tasha. He smiled brightly and made his way to her.

“You must be the new girl Albus told us about! I’m your potions professor, Horace Slughorn! Tiffany, correct?” Slughorn introduced enthusiastically.

“Tasha, the name’s Tasha,” corrected the girl, slightly irritated by the professor already.

He nodded and said, “Of course, of course, my apologies. Anyways, welcome to the class!” He turned and made his way back to the front of the room and began teaching class.

As Slughorn lectured the class on polyjuice potions Tasha noticed that the man didn’t favor a House, he favored the top students or the ones that were best in the class. She noticed that he would linger on certain individuals no matter the House. This guy played favorites. She sighed at that.

Her old potions teacher wasn’t like that at all; she was the opposite really. Her old teacher, Ms. Weatherby, was different in appearance and personality. She was fair and good natured and knew how to take a joke, but was really strict on potions and doing your best. She really made you work hard and she wouldn’t take someone saying they can’t do it; she’d work with a student as much as she needed to as long as they tried hard.

Honestly, she was one of the only reasons she passed the class as well as she did.

And she did find it kind of awesome that Ms. Weatherby would easily prank a set of students every year after they prank her.

The woman was lively.

There was a collective groan that brought Tasha back from her thoughts and she wondered what she missed. She turned to Neville and asked, “What’d I miss?”

“We got an out of class project…” he groaned and put his head on his desk.

Tasha turned to Hermione after she thought about asking the two other boys but finding them busy grumbling. “Please don’t tell me that we are assigned partners,” she told the prefect.

The girl only nodded her head and went back to paying attention to the instructor. Tasha groaned too and covered her eyes, placing her elbow on the table to keep her head up. Shit, group projects sucked, especially when you didn’t pick the partners.

“Now! I’m going to give you a partnered assignment that you will do for the next two class periods. You are to pick a potion from your books to make and write on. You will have two class periods and, if in need of more time, can ask for a supervised brewing session in the potions lab. The paper needs to be at least three foot of parchment and be done before the second class,” instructed Slughorn with a clap of his hands.

“Can’t we just pick our own partners?” asked a student.

Slughorn smiled and said, “Nonsense! It’s time we tried something different! And how different can we get if we partner everyone up with the opposite of their House?”

That had all the students getting bug eyed and speechless. Was the man crazy? There’ll be so many curses and hexes getting tossed around that it’d be like a battle field.

“He’s trying to start a bloody war in Hogwarts!” Ron exclaimed quietly in bewilderment. Hermione elbowed him and told him to shush.

In a way, Tasha had to agree with the redhead. There will be a war, but there will probably not just be hexes and curses, there’ll be blood. Neville paled more and Tasha had to wonder if he’ll survive this carnage that Slughorn apparently wants to pull. Ron grumbled. Hermione pursed her lips. Harry glared.

The people around them weren’t much better at hiding their displeasure; Gryffindors and Slytherins were voicing their displeasure and glaring at one another.

“Now, now, we all will have to work together eventually, so why not start now? It’ll be a learning experience and it’ll be fun!” exclaimed Slughorn excitedly with a big smile on his face.

 _The man has a weird sense of fun_ , thought Tasha as she sighed and drummed her fingers against her purse on her lap. Just got here and she’s already going to get in the middle of the problems.

“Well, when I pair you up please go to your partners and start planning for the last bit of class. Mr. Nott and Mr. Longbottom…”

The three looked at each other and all chanted together quietly, “No Malfoy. No Malfoy. No Malfoy…”

“Ms. Granger and Ms. Parkinson.”

Hermione groaned.

“Mr. Potter and Ms. Greengrass.”

Harry practically sagged in relief. “It’s a miracle…”

“Mr. Zabini and Mr. Weasley.”

Ron banged his head down onto the table with a whine.

“Mr. Malfoy with our new girl, Ms. Tiffany.”

All four people she sat with gave her sympathetic looks as she looked around with her eyes to find out who this Malfoy was. Neville got her attention and pointed him out to her. There, in the front, was a teen with white blonde hair and gray eyes, pointed and pale features in the face that held a sneer of disdain. A handsome guy with an air of superiority, but there was something that was behind that mask haughty superiority.

When Slughorn told everybody to get with their partners for the last ten minutes of class there was grumbling and shuffling as people went to their partners. Many even looked pained at the idea of working with members of the opposite House. Like, really pained. And pale. And…

So not wanting to do this project of chaos.

Tasha looked over at where her partner sat and noticed he hadn’t moved from his seat. He had his arms crossed as he watched her and waited impatiently. Well, he obviously wasn’t moving from his spot.

Harry came next to her and said, “Watch out for him. Malfoy doesn’t play nice.”

That made her raise an eyebrow and the corner of her glossed lips to twitch a little upwards. “Oh, really? Well, if homeboy wants to play then we’ll play.”

Harry blinked and she stood and grabbed her stuff, then walked with her head held high as she sauntered over to the blonde. She kept her gaze on him as she made her way over. The blonde, she noticed, sneered at her, but there twitch, barely noticeable, in his features that showed slight amusement. Tasha placed her stuff down, pulled her seat out, and sat down next to her partner, facing him with her legs crossed.

The blonde looked her over, up and down, before his attention came to rest on her face. “I see you’ve already gotten acquainted with the Golden Trio,” stated the wizard plainly.

“And I see your momma never taught you proper manners. Are you going to introduce yourself or not?” Tasha countered easily.

He kept his cool, so far. “Draco Malfoy. I’m surprised your Gryffindor buddies didn’t warn you away from me.”

She snorted. “Please. I haven’t talked much with anybody about the school’s social dynamics.” She looked him over as well then went to back to keeping her eyes on his face. Draco lifted a brow. “New girl, Tasha Winters.”

“That’s not a wizarding name,” said Draco blandly, eyes shifting to disgust.

She shrugged and grabbed a green spiral memo book from her purse and clicked a pen. “No, it’s not. How do you wanna do this?”

“I’d rather not work with someone like you at all.” The aversion to her was definitely something he didn’t bother to hide and she easily picked up on it.

“And I really don’t give a shit. We’ll get this project done one way or the other, end of story.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You have some nerve.”

She took a deep breath and resisted the urge to punch him and glared. “We’ll meet up at the library to get research done for the paper for our first get together and then the next time we’ll check over the other’s paper for corrections and do any last minute look into of the potion we want to do. What days are you good for?”

He stared at her and said nothing. Draco was surprised by her; her American accent, her confidence, her attitude…her guarded nature. She was almost like Granger in that aspect, with her being different than most muggle-borns at least. The Malfoy heir wasn’t sure how to take his interest in the new girl or whether he was comfortable with it at all.

Tasha gave Draco a hard look. “Well?”

“Wednesdays and Thursdays,” he answered finally.

“I can do that. Time? Before or after dinner?”

“After dinner.”

“We’ll meet the next two Thursdays at the library after dinner then,” Tasha finalized, writing it down in her memo book as a reminder.

Slughorn dismissed the class. Tasha gathered her stuff, said ‘till Thursday’, and leaves with her head held high. Draco watched her leave before he followed and did the same, the Golden Trio glaring at him as they pass him.

Draco watched the Trio catch up and walk with Tasha, Neville already walking on her right and talking with her.

He didn’t know what to think about her.


	4. Chapter 3

Lunch was uneventful. Tasha and the other sixth year Gryffindors made their way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The classroom was large enough to accommodate for both the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Having the classroom like that was both a good and bad thing.

Good because it gave a lot of room and bad because after Potions this morning things can only go badly between them.

Again, Tasha had to wonder why she was in the middle of this on the very first day. Personally, she thought the Big Man Upstairs had a sense of humor…one she was not fond of.

The students gathered to their seats and Tasha stayed again with the four that she was most acquainted with. The teacher wasn’t there yet, but some of them were there early. Students were still piling in. It was the last class of the day and Tasha was more than happy that it was. The day has been long and full of things that she wasn’t sure she really wanted to be a part of. The Golden Trio, as she has heard them be call, weren’t so bad and she could say the same for Neville. So far they were the easiest to deal with, so she’ll probably stick with them.

Tasha tapped her foot slowly while her legs were crossed and she felt her wand that was still in her boot. She looked around the room and saw her blonde partner from Potions sitting across with the Slytherins talking a little with the people next to him. When he saw her looking at him she turned her attention to the boy next to her, Harry.

“So, what’s the professor like in this class?” Tasha asked.

The Trio looked at her and Ron answered her, “It’s Severus Snape. He’s a greasy git that likes to torment anyone who isn’t a Slytherin.”

She furrowed her brows; the word ‘git’ throwing her off and it took her a minute to figure out what the word meant. Damn, she was going to have to get used to the British slang. “So, he plays favorites and is an asshole?” she deduced with a sigh.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly and was about to say something, probably to reprimand Ron and possibly even chastise Tasha, but then everyone was settled and then the doors opened and in strode the professor. A man in all black with matching greasy hair and a stern look that intimidated people of weaker wills. The man’s robes billowed as he walked to the front of the class **and the students themselves quieted down and tensed up.

As soon as Tasha laid eyes on him she knew that he was not a man you messed with. He just had this air about him that demanded respect and of aloofness, but the magic she felt coming off him was strong and backed up the aforementioned aspects of him. This professor was no weak man, but he was broken and bitter, kept together by mere strength and will alone.

That didn’t mean she was going to take the asshole attitude though.

“We’re practicing nonverbal spells. Find a partner and practice with some spells that won’t have you killing each other. Hopefully, you all remember the lecture from last class on _how_ to do spells nonverbally,” Snape ordered, looking over the class with scrutiny.

The class burst into a frenzy of getting together with their partner of choice. Tasha turned to Harry. “How good are you in this class?” she asked seriously.

Harry blinked and said modestly, “I’m alright.”

Their bushy-haired friend scoffed at that. “He’s possibly the best in our year,” Hermione informed, though a tad grudgingly considering she was used to being the best in all her studies, but gave credit where credit was due.

“I wouldn’t say that, most of the time it’s me being lucky,” disagreed Harry seriously.

Hermione tutted. “Harry, don’t take for granted what you’re good at. You’re actually an excellent duelist.”

“Yeah, mate, don’t be shy about it,” agreed Ron, a light teasing edge to his voice.

“Are you four still not practicing yet?” said Snape from behind the four, startling them. “I might have to start handing out zeroes for the day and detention already and the class just started.” He narrowed his eyes on them. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” And with that he walked away to couple of students that couldn’t seem to get a spell out nonverbally without whispering or mouthing it.

Tasha heaved a sigh and stood up. She looked down at Harry. “Wanna partner up with me?” she asked.

Harry rose to his feet, pulled out his wand, and said, “Sure.”

The four found a spare spot in the room that wasn’t occupied by a pair of duelists. The girls were on one side with a few feet to separate them while the guys were opposite of them. Tasha looked around the room as she pulled her wand out from her boot. There were some that were struggling with getting the spells out while others were sort of getting the hang of it. Then there were those few that really got it.

She chuckled when she saw someone get a large set of antlers and a red nose. She had to hold back the laugh that wanted to come out when she saw that when they opened their mouth all they did was bleat. The transfigured Slytherin student was sent out to the hospital wing while the Gryffindor attacker loss House points.

“Ready?” asked Harry.

The American snapped her attention back to her opponent. “You should’ve taken advantage of my distraction; it was a good opportunity for a surprise attack,” stated Tasha, shaking her head slightly at the loss opportunity.

He held out his wand. “It would’ve hardly been fair since its only practice.”

Tasha sighed, but didn’t lift her wand, only tapped it against her leg. Sighing was really becoming a bad habit of hers and she was doing it way too much for her own liking. “Life’s not fair and sometimes you have to do what’s best to survive. You should know that better than anybody, what with the big, bad dark wizard trying to kill you and all…”

She whipped her wand in Harry’s direction, causing him to fly back a few feet and land on his back.

Hermione gasped and Ron stood like a deer in headlights at their fallen friend. Tasha just watched as Harry quickly got back up onto his feet and walk back over to their practice area. The bespectacled boy shook his head to regain the control he lost. Some of their classmates stopped to watch while others kept things friendly enough to be able to observe.

“When I duel, I duel. You don’t do yourself or anybody else justice by going easy on someone, especially if you know you need to always be prepared,” stated Tasha. “Because of your mistake I now have the upper hand.”

“You just know everything, don’t you,” snarled Ron, glaring at the dark skinned witch.

She glanced at the redhead. “No. I’m just willing to do whatever it takes.” She turned to Harry, her wand at the ready. “Hit me like you mean it.”

Harry straightened, the look in his eyes told her that he understood what she meant and that there were no hard feelings. He nodded his agreement and stood at the ready.

Tasha was used to dueling, fighting in general, because of the neighborhood she grew up in. gangs and shootings, robbery and assault, were things that happened on the regular for her so she was always prepared. She was used to being on her toes and because of that she became a strong combatant when it came to using magic like that, like she was fighting. To her, it was like the muggle way of fighting, it came naturally to her.

And from what she can tell from the look in Harry’s eyes, he was used to being on his toes too. That one misstep did not hide that from her. She feels she picked the right practice buddy.

A spell flashed and she quickly casted _Protego_ to block it, but it didn’t block the second attack that hit her just at the right time to catch her off guard enough on the forearm.

She stumbled back and hissed at the pain in her arm. That Stinging Hex hurt like a bitch and it would’ve been worse if it had hit the gunshot wound on her side like it was going to. Well then…

Blocking another spell, Tasha sent a temporary blinding spell that got blocked and countered by one of Harry’s own. She dodged it by moving out its path and sent slicing spell that Harry couldn’t block with a shield charm. It hit him right on robes as he dodged it enough to only get a graze on his arm.

The spell wouldn’t have cut too deep, but it would’ve been good enough to make the wound throb painfully enough to cause a distraction. But since the spell only grazed him it felt like a Stinging Hex for a bit.

Harry narrowed his eyes and sent a few more spells and hexes her way. It was a little unnerving with how serious she dueled in a class setting, yet alone how good she was without the use of verbally announcing her casts. The only ones he knew that were close enough to even coming up to par with her skills that was their age was Dumbledore’s Army.

He glanced at his best friends just as he was able to block her spell, the spell hitting the wall behind him and cause it to crack like a spider web. Ron gaped in shock and surprise while Hermione tensed, not liking the situation at all. To be honest, Harry wasn’t sure what to think of the situation either, but he knew if he didn’t fight back fully then he was in trouble.

The sound of the wall cracking got the whole class’ attention, even the professor’s. Snape was not happy by what he saw; Harry could tell that a mile away. Their practice, their duel, had garnered attention, as if the people around them weren’t already interested, and he had a feeling that ending it now would be a good idea.

With that decided, Harry sent the disarming charm at her after occupying her with two to three spells simultaneously. He watched as her wand flew out of her hand and onto the floor. He relaxed, letting his wand go down to his side. He won. He turned to his friends.

 _Oh no, it’s not over yet_ , thought Tasha.

Ignoring the professor coming over to them at the corner of her eyes she called out calmly, “Hey, Harry.”

Harry turned to her, still at ease, and said, “Yeah? You okay?” He frowned as he considered this, worried for her.

She smiled at him sweetly and said, “Of course, I am.” She jerked her chin at him.

And the next thing you knew he was flying across the room and crashing onto a table that broke beneath him when he impacted. He groaned from his position. Before he could get up she sprinted over to him and planted her booted foot onto his chest to keep him down. She kept her eyes on Harry as she held her palm out, her wand flying into her hand, then holding him at wand point. Tasha made sure that she didn’t put too much weight onto his chest so as not to hurt him anymore than she already has.

There was silence among the classroom and she heard Snape make his way over to the two of them. Harry stared up at her, wide eyed in astonishment and surprise. “Unless your opponent is flat on their back unconscious or dead, do not leave them with an easy opening like that. It’s a good way to get yourself killed,” stated Tasha. “You never know what they can do.”

Harry was about to answer her, but then the deep voice of the professor rose first, “I don’t believe you have the license to teach, Ms. Winters, but I do believe I said to use spells that _wouldn’t_ have you killing each other off.”

Tasha stepped away from Harry and placed her wand back in one of her boots and faced Snape. Ron and Hermione went to help their friend up. “You did,” she affirmed, crossing her arms. “And none of my spells would’ve killed, maybe broken bones, but not kill.”

He was impressed with her skills in nonverbal and wandless magic, he’ll admit, but regardless. “That’s a very thin line.”

“It is,” she agreed. She lifted her chin defiantly, waiting for her punishment.

“Fifteen points from Gryffindor.” He announced. He turned to the Golden Trio. “You seem to have your work cut out for you, Potter.” There was hint of smugness in the sneering tone.

Snape repaired the table and the wall as he turned his back on the four of them. “Back to your seats!” he barked as he made his way to the front of the class. Students fumbled to their seats and Tasha took hers next to dueling partner.

She sidled up to Harry and asked quietly, “You aren’t hurt too badly, are you?”

He smiled at her reassuringly. “Not as bad as I thought I’d be.”

Tasha returned the smile with a grin and said, “Tough guy, huh?”

“Nah, just used to it.”

The class ended up with a seven foot paper on the positive and negative points of using nonverbal spells.

 

*

 

The Gryffindor Common Room that evening was occupied with a few students that were doing homework or talking amongst each other and joking about. On a couch sat the Trio with Neville and Ginny doing homework and Ron and Harry playing in between turns of Wizard’s Chess while doing so. The fire was going and Tasha sat in the armchair closest to it sitting with her legs across the arms, still in her uniform, while Tiki rested on the back of the cushioned chair.

Since planting herself there Tasha hasn’t said a word, only looked over her textbook and moving a foot in a tapping motion. She wanted a couple days to get started on her stuff for the class; it was one of the few she did that for. Mostly though, she was reading on the different dragons. She blamed her previous professor for Care of Magical Creatures for her love and fascination of them. Though, she did find other creatures interesting even if most of them were more on the dangerous side of the mill.

Tiki purred next to her, rubbing her little nose against Tasha’s cheek affectionately and trying to get her owner’s attention. She laid her book down on her lap and took the ferret into her lap, kissing the furry head and running her hand down the back of her pet.

“Tasha, how’d you get so good at nonverbal and wandless magic?” asked Harry suddenly. She looked over at the dark-haired boy and saw him staring at her curiously.

She shrugged and stroked under Tiki’s chin. “Life’s a bitch and I’ve just had to learn fast,” she answered vaguely.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, then turned to her, both seeming a bit a cautious. “You’re an excellent duelist, but you seem to play dirty and be merciless. It makes you wonder,” said Hermione warily, but not fearfully.

“Yeah, like playing fair’s out of business when it’s just practice in a class. Like a snake,” growled Ron, still unhappy with how the duel went earlier in class that day.

Tasha narrowed her eyes. “Look, if you’re going to bitch about my way of doing things because I simply play the game differently then maybe you should step up your own. Harry seems to be the only one from you three that isn’t holding a grudge from earlier.”

Her pet, sensing her owner’s change of emotion, looks at the two and hisses from her spot.

Harry coughed. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about practicing dueling together…”

His two friends snapped their heads to their companion, surprised. Neville shifted awkwardly in his seat and Ginny watched the four curiously. The silence didn’t last long.

“Sure,” Tasha answered with a smirk, “I’m more than willing to continuously kick your ass.”

The prefect didn’t say anything, just pursed her lips together in a thin line. She didn’t like it because of how the new girl did things, but she had to admit she knew why Harry wanted to do it. He was going to have to go against Voldemort soon and he was going to have to face him in a duel alone, he needed to be ready.

     The redhead, though, didn’t like it one bit. He liked Tasha enough, at least when she wasn’t dueling, but she was…well he didn’t know what! There was just something about her that made her seem like a snake at times, like a Slytherin, like a wolf pretending to be one with the herd of sheep. Yet, he even understood why Harry wanted to practice with her, seeing as she was one of the few students to stand a chance against him on dueling.

Neville smiled awkwardly and decided to relieve the tension. “So, what was your old school like?” he asked.

That got their attention on something else and did exactly as the nervous boy wanted it to do. Hermione perked up and was interested, Ron untensed, Harry sighed in relief, and Ginny seemed to just shrug it off but was interested as well. And Tasha? She was more than willing to take the olive branch and gave a smile in thanks to the boy.

“Well, at my old school we weren’t separated by Houses. Girls were in one dorm while guys were in another and they were in separate buildings with people paired off by twos for each dorm room,” answered Tasha.

“Like a muggle college,” piped up Hermione.

“Pretty much. My school was set up more like a college campus that muggles use. Don’t ask me why, but I’m pretty sure it’s because the person that started the school was a muggle-born or half-blood.

“There’s this really cool teacher called Ms. Weatherby that taught potions and she would prank students every year if they started in on her. This one time she charmed someone’s hands to change to every color of the rainbow for a week before she released it because a student made it so she said ‘meow’ at the end of every sentence. Let me tell you, that was funny as hell when she was lecturing the class.” Tasha smiled at the memory.

The four gaped at her in disbelief.

“No way! Didn’t they get in trouble?” exclaimed Ron.

“Nah, as long as it was nothing serious and not during exam time no one got in trouble.”

“Fred and George should’ve gone to her school. They would’ve loved her as a teacher,” stated Ron with a laugh.

Ginny giggled, “They’d probably marry her.”

“She might still be single. She’s only twenty-four, I think, if that’s not too old for them,” Tasha informed them lightly, a small smile quirking her lips.

It was weird; she hardly ever felt this at ease with other witches and wizards because she always felt judged by her peers for preferring doing things the muggle way most of the time. But these guys just accepted her, at least to an extent, anyways. It was nice. Though, she had to admit that it was probably because there was stuff going down that was dangerous like being at home in the ghetto of Atlanta that she was used to.

She was still going to feel them out though.

And probably get her ass in trouble along the way.

 

*

 

Draco sat with Pansy clinging onto his side on the couch in the Slytherin Common Room. Blaise sat on the matching armchair next to the couch, reclined back and relaxed. The Malfoy heir just sat in thought as he let his fellow Slytherins talk.

There was so much going on with the heir, more than anybody in the Slytherin House would care to understand and he wasn’t sure if he was willing to deal with them as often as he would usually this year. Not with what he’s got going on with him, to his family. Draco resisted the urge grab onto the mark on his forearm where the Dark Mark lay hidden as the face of the Dark Lord came to the forefront of his mind and the threat he held over his family.

No one in his House knew and they weren’t going to if he could help it.

“That new muggle-born bitch in Gryffindor?”

Draco tuned back into the conversation that was going on between Blaise and Pansy. Apparently, they were talking about the transfer student.

“Yeah, don’t you think that she’s too confident for a mudblood? She acts like she’s all that and so tough. I think she needs to learn a lesson,” proposed Pansy, running her hands up and down his arm.

Draco had to resist scoffing and rolling his eyes at that. With what he saw today in Defense Pansy wouldn’t stand a chance against the girl, especially since Potter even had his hands full with her. He looked into the fireplace.

Blaise smirked, “She’s interesting to say the least. She could be useful for Slytherins if she wasn’t in Gryffindor. I’d like to see what she was capable of in the right hands.”

The way Blaise said that made Draco’s skin crawl. Why, he didn’t know, but the thought of the new girl the hands of Blaise or Death Eaters or the Dark Lord made him shudder. He knew what those types were capable of, they’ve done those things in his family’s house, and the young man next to him was less dangerous than the aforementioned, but still. Just the idea was nauseating. He shouldn’t feel that way, not be somewhat protective of her, but the ferocity he saw in her as she fought Potter was one of the most attractive things about her besides her physical appearance being exotic to him.

It was lust, that he knew, but it was something that was going to be easy to ignore because it wasn’t important. He had a job to focus on.

And listening to inane talk of being superior to a mudblood just didn’t catch his attention compared to what he had to deal with.

     With a sigh, he pried the obnoxious girl from his arm and stood up. He excused himself and made his way to the sixth year boys’ dormitory. He needed to find a way to kill Dumbledore to save his family.


End file.
